


Favor

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cousin Incest, F/M, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, but not incest in Westeros, it's a 900+ word drabble ahahahaha, no beta we die like meh, this drabble started to write itself after the first word i have nothing to do with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 06:51:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19740457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: She played their games, she knew the rules. They dealt in favors and bribes and she was always preparing to trade her future away at a bargained price.





	Favor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amymel86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/gifts).



> As a very original and creative writer I've decided to use the prompt as my drabble title without any changes.
> 
> Written for the Jonsa 100 Drabble Challenge prompt 98: Favor.
> 
> Pika—wait, no, Amymel86, I choose you, because you're one of my fave authors, and because you're my fave Amy of all the Amys out there! Have fun with prompt 74: Ego!

  


* * *

  


  
_Favor_. Sansa had to relearn the meaning of this word in the past months she was made to stay at the Red Keep, a prisoner in all but name. She played their games, she knew the rules. They dealt in favors and bribes and she was always preparing to trade her future away at a bargained price. Bargained because the eldest daughter of a beheaded lord held very little leverage in this southron world of courts.

Yet there was nothing courtly about it, none at all, so very unlike what she imagined King's Landing to be in the sheltered rooms of Winterfell. Sansa saw it for what it was now, a carnivorous plant, luring in unsuspecting souls with vivid colors and sweet scented perfumes, only to devour them whole when they got close enough.

She wondered if this was another trap, an amusing little ruse for the Targaryens to test the depth of her loyalty. _He's a Stark, too_ , father's voice rumbled from somewhere far away, unexpected, and she almost wept at the familiar northern brogue. She felt his absence as clear as a caged bird would its sky, and her heart tore anew.

Father's honor got him killed. If Sansa trusted him, this Targaryen cousin of hers, this _bastard prince_ —would her trust kill her, too?

The Targaryen's gaze was still focused on her, still earnest and searching for an answer she didn't have. Solemn concern creased the spot between his brows and Sansa realized with a start how similar he and her father looked. The Stark look.

She didn't know whether to love him or hate him for it. She wetted her lips.

_"How do you know any of this?"_

"I… " he looked down once, before meeting her eyes again, "I helped Arya escape. I'm sorry I didn't do the same for you, I tried, but you have more guards assigned and—"

_And I can't fight, not like Arya._ Sansa saw the wound on the guarding man's neck, small but deep and deadly. Needle. The inside of her throat felt raw, but she pushed the words out anyway.

"It's fine."  
"I'm sorry."

Sansa blinked. A revelation and an apology. She waited, but no ask of favor ever came and she was deeply unsettled.

"I should have-I should have tried harder, I know this place better than you and I know the secret passages, I should have—"

Sansa placed a hand on his arm out of impulse and the prince froze as if touched by ice. She only felt fire running through her veins. Her throat was raw all over again, but this time for an entirely different reason.

_You did the best you could. It hasn't even been two months. The king's name day is the next best thing you can find. I know. I don't blame you._

"It's fine." she said again instead and tried to put weight into the words, to convey her gratitude to him, the gratitude she held for the only piece of kindness she'd ever received in this hot, cruel land. And by some miracle, he understood. The creases on his forehead smoothed for the tiniest fraction of a second and Sansa sought out his eyes, only to find them staring back at her with something akin to… _wonder? Is the prince unaccustomed to kindness, as she is after a few months' stay in King's Landing? What kind of life was he given, a bastard of Stark blood who grew up in Targaryen lairs?_ She imagined her eyes held the same wonder as his did now, when she was told of the escape plan, and warmth bloomed within her. She felt suddenly, ridiculously shy.

"If I… " her voice cracked and she tried again, "If I leave for Dorne, will I ever see you again, my Prince?"

Fire passed through his eyes. Her hand was still on his arm and she felt the muscles flex beneath her fingers. Did she imagine the quick glance at her lips?

" _Jon_." His voice seemed rougher around the edges than usual, "Call me Jon. I'm not-I won't be a Targaryen when I visit. Jon… Snow, that's all I'll be to you. If you'll have me."

Sansa couldn't stop the smile that came to her then, her first smile in many months, and the prince's—Jon's answering one, rare and radiant and beautiful, lit her whole body up. She felt as if she were glowing, and maybe she was. Heat flared, warm and steady and yearning and Sansa gave in, closed the distance between them and surrendered to her own desire with the lightest touch of lips. Chaste, sweet, soft, and in an abandoned corridor in the deepest nook of the Red Keep; a secret blossom in the dead of night. It was nothing and everything she'd ever dreamed of.

It was a favor, the kind of favors that ladies bestowed upon their knights after unparalleled feats, and _sneaking Sansa Stark out of the Red Keep to reunite her with her siblings in Dorne_ , surely this counted as an extraordinary deed?

_Favor_. She rolled the word on her tongue in silence and found its meaning shifting, yet again, this time for the better. Sansa chanced a glimpse at her knight. Jon looked dazed. _Jon looked dashing_. She bit her lip before pressing her mouth to his with an urgency she did not know she possessed and giggled at his most recent development of unsteady feet, before turning away and hurrying back to her room, soul light and heart soaring, her thoughts never once straying from their parting kiss. _For good luck_ , she told herself as dimples made their home in her cheeks and refused to leave, _and many favors to come_.


End file.
